


Birthday Bash

by Boysn



Series: Trip Week 2K15 [1]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Birthday, Drunkenness, Gen, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 20:05:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3868093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boysn/pseuds/Boysn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble written for Trip Week 2k15. Virus doesn't like Trip to drink his wine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Bash

Twenty, the legal drinking age, meant nothing to Trip. He'd been drinking for years and no one dared to say anything about it. Except one person. 

“Don't drink my wine, you brat. It was expensive,” Virus said snatching the bottle from Trip's sweaty palms. The younger man was already drunk and had finished two bottles before Virus had come in. Trip smiled as he saw Virus make a passing glance at the garbage, where the finished bottles sat. Naturally blue eyes widened. 

“It's my birthday and those were your presents to me,” Trip explained jutting a thumb at his chest. 

Virus scowled, “Keep this up and it will also be your death day!” 

Trip let out a chuckle as Virus fished the bottles out of the garbage. His partner was mildly obsessed with wine and took great pride in his collection. Trip hated it. Food and drink was meant to be consumed, not displayed in a mahogany cabinet as if it were fine china. 

“You WILL replace these, birthday boy,” Virus said sitting the bottles on the counter in front of Trip. “Make sure the year and location are correct.” 

Trip spun in his stool, “And if I don't?” he teased. 

That was evidently the wrong thing to say as Trip found himself on the ground with his head ringing. Glass from one of the empty bottles all over the floor. Blood dripping on the hard, cold marble beneath him. It happened so fast the that even though he was injured the pain had yet to set in. 

“If you don't replace my wine I will circumcise you with this,” Virus said kneeling down, waving the sharp edge of the broken bottle in Trip's face. Trip tried to push himself up but was hit with vertigo and fell back down onto the shards peppered around him. He could've easily had a concussion. 

Virus went back to the kitchen where Trip heard rummaging. The dick had just left him there to bleed. Trip pushed up again, this time fighting the vertigo and making it to his feet. 

Virus had his back turned and was deep in the refrigerator. No doubt looking for fucking caviar, or something, to put on his fucking fru-fru crackers. Trip picked up the other bottle and reached over and pulled the other man out of the fridge by his belt. He then slammed the bottle down over Virus' head. 

The elder sunk to the floor, half of his body tucked into the refrigerator. Trip watched as the root of Virus' hair took on a marvelous blood red hue. Trip touched his own hair which hadn't been dyed in about a week. His roots were showing. 

He felt laughter in him but couldn't find the energy to vocalize it. He watched as Virus stirred on the ground, blood continuing to dye his hair. Trip kneeled and ran a hand through Virus' blood dampened locks, moving his bangs from his face. 

Virus stared back at him with an icy glare and moved his hand to run through Trip's hair, lifting his bangs. 

This was their relationship. Equal. Mirroring. Bloody.

Trip passed out.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, my Trippidy-do-da! I love you!


End file.
